There but for…

It was an absolutely beautiful day today. I was walking along crossing 57th St. on my way back to the office minding my own business when a man directed an “excuse me, sir” my way.  Normally, being a hard-hearted New York City pedestrian, I would have walked along ignoring him. But for some reason, I leaned down to hear what this large fellow in a wheel chair had to say through the din of city noise surrounding us. “Can you please help me get across the street?” Initially, I thought this was just another pan handler, but I realized this man also had both arms severed at the elbows. I asked him to repeat his request. “Sure,” I said still thinking somewhere deep down this was some kind of scam. But the walk light changed, I pushed his chair across 3rd Avenue and back up through the curb cut onto the sidewalk. “There you are,” I said trying to find a place for him in the crowd. “Where would you like to be?” He just said thank you and told me he could take it from here. He turned his chair around backward and shuffled his way up the block. I waited another cycle of the light to cross back over to where I began feeling on one hand glad I helped another person out. But on the other hand, something more that I still can’t quite pin down. Hooray for me helping out another human being – big deal. I wondered what this man’s life was like. How he had to wait on the corner asking people for help getting across the street. And if he didn’t get it, he’d never get more than a block from where he was at any given time. Hundreds of people must have passed him before I responded to what he was asking. Clearly, he didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for him. He just wanted some help getting across the street.

Advertisement